“It’s easier to get free wi-fi than it is to get free water and people act like there’s nothing wrong with the world”. – Fidel Littlelight
Water has turned into a huge commodity. As a former retailer I can tell you that water is one of the most profit bearing items in a store. I used to be able to get cases of water for less than $2 each (making the cost of each bottle roughly 9¢ a piece) and the suggested retail price was 99¢. That’s a heck of a margin huh?
In fact, have you seen a water fountain recently? Probably not. Usually only in schools and hospitals anymore, with an occasional sighting at an office building (leftovers from days gone by). They’re getting harder to find, aren’t they? Now imagine you’re homeless. Where do you get a drink of water?
I understand that even if it’s within your means, many people are not comfortable handing cash to the person with the sign at the intersection and I don’t disagree. Sadly there are scammers out there and there is no way to determine who is legit and who just figure it’s a great way to make a buck.
Shortly after I stopped living in a shelter I was back living with my parents. My mom needed to go for a therapy appointment due to an injury, so I dropped her off and used her truck to go grocery shopping. When I got back, there was a man in the parking lot begging for money from everyone he could find talking about how he, his wife and child were now living on the streets and hungry. When he approached me, I let him know that I had no money but that I had just gotten done grocery shopping and walked him to the back of the truck asking if he had the means to cook and started pulling out groceries for him. He thanked me and turned down my offering of food, then proceeded to go skittering off to the fast food drive thru next door to return to his quest for cash.
Please do not take what I’ve said as a reason to never help someone with a sign. There are many, many needy people who need our help and cities and municipalities are really aiming to put the homeless population out of sight and out of mind. If you haven’t had the opportunity to read my piece on the homelessness – Insights into the Dark – I would ask you to check it out when you have a chance.
I’d like to take this opportunity to challenge everyone who reads this to buy a case of bottled water. It doesn’t have to be expensive, just whatever you can find at the best price, and keep it in a cooler with a little ice. As you’re driving around town doing errands and you see someone with a sign, sleeping on a piece of cardboard or a park bench or under an overpass – offer them a bottle of water. It’s a small kindness that goes an incredibly long way.
I think a case of water at Wal-Mart is around $3.50 and at CVS you can catch it on sale for $2. While you may not be willing to hand someone cash, offering them a bottle of water that cost you 9¢-15¢, that would cost them a dollar or more at the nearest shop is a huge help. Can you think of any other way to help that many people for under four dollars?
It’s a frugal way to help and it’s a great way to help your fellow-man. Thanks for listening.
Today I offer you a poem and a story, and sadly neither are intended to make you smile. There are no pictures and there’s also a good chance that it will probably make you somewhat uncomfortable.
However, uncomfortable is what leads to change. Uncomfortable is what makes us say “no more”. I keep hoping that more people every day will become more and more uncomfortable, so they’ll look outside their comfort zone and see the need around them, and feel compelled to affect change.
Hello, my name is Anna and I’m six years old
I live with my mama and papa
They can’t always afford to feed me as often as they would like
They can’t afford to buy me clothing very often
We don’t have a house, but we have shelter sometimes
I used to have a brother but he died
I love my parents, and I know that love me too
They try so very hard
We are part of your society
a part you either don’t see or won’t see
I probably won’t be here very much longer
I just wanted to say hello
Hello my name is Anna and I’m ten years old
My daddy died, Mama says someone shot him
Mama has lots of friends, she says that’s how she pays the rent
I used to have a brother but he died too,
Mama said we couldn’t feed him anymore
I worry about my Mama she puts needles in herself
But she says” don’t worry baby God is coming for us all”
I know that I’m supposed to believe in God
and I guess I do
I just haven’t seen him in my neighborhood
Mama’s calling for me now I have to go make her lunch
anyway I just wanted to say hello
Hello, my name’s Anna and I’m fifteen.
I know what my mama did to raise me,
I understand now because I have a daughter now
and I call her Ella… I’d do anything to make sure that she has enough
food and clothes, but things keep getting in the way.
it’s so expensive, and they want so much from me.
I love my little girl but sometimes when she cries when she’s hungry
I just want to get away…
so I do…
Hello, My name is Ella or so I’m told,
they said that my Mama named me after my grandma,
but I never knew her
They tell they she loved me very much
but I never knew
I should have had a daddy
but they never knew
They are closing the home tomorrow
because they have no money
I ask where will I go
but nobody knows
Hello, My name is Ella and I’m 12 years old,
for as long as I can remember
I’ve been sold from pimp to pimp for cigarettes or pool wagers or on a whim,
I am chattel, I am worthless.
I don’t even care enough to despair
DsHello, My name is Ella
I’m a corpse under a bridge,
I’ve been here for weeks
and no one seemed to notice,
I wonder why that is
I lived with a woman named Susan in the homeless shelter I stayed in, along with her husband Dave and their daughter, April (she was 8 maybe?). Dave had a massive stroke that left him confined to a wheelchair, having to be fed and changed, and unintelligible speak to anyone other than his wife or daughter. In fact, everyone originally thought he was her father because he had aged so much from all that he’d been through medically. Sadly she didn’t know enough to apply for social security.
They were a single income household and Susan stopped working when she found out that she was pregnant. They lost their home, most of their possessions, their cars. And now Dave was an invalid who couldn’t take care of himself. With limited skills and experience, the only place that would hire her was McDonald’s. Susan would take care of Dave as soon as they woke up, along with getting April off to school. Susan would leave to go to work, then when April came “home” after school, then she’d be her dad’s caretaker until Susan got “home” around midnight, walking both ways because the car they had been living in had been repossessed.
On the way “home” one night Susan was stopped by three rough looking men, one of which had been kicked out of the shelter previously for being an asshole, and he blamed her. She had asked him to watch his mouth around her daughter and he wouldn’t and got nasty with her, so she told the guard and asked that he try to handle it.
Then he got into it with the guard and started an altercation, needless to say, he was out for good. Not necessarily a good thing in Colorado in the winter(oh well); he brought it on himself but of course he blamed everyone but himself. So here she was, alone, walking “home” and suddenly surrounded by these three street thugs. The one with the vendetta and two of his buddies. They decided to drive train on her because gang-rape is a worthy punishment for asking the guard to make you stop talking in 4-letter words around someone’s young daughter.
I couldn’t sleep at night back then either so I was wide awake as always when she came in later than usual. Her hair messed up, her uniform was a mess, dirty, ripped in places with some blood on it, and a face that was stained with tears. We all knew something was wrong, and it wasn’t hard to tell what that something was.
We tried suggesting to her to go to the hospital to get checked out, but she refused, almost in a panic attack, saying that she couldn’t go because if they admitted her, then that would leave her 8-year-old daughter there to take care of her father, and not only was that not something she wanted to do to April. The big problem was that because since neither April or David was self-sufficient, not only would they not be allowed to stay at the shelter, but children’s services & adult protective services could be called to take both of them away.
A couple of us asked her if they could help her get cleaned up, We all offered to help her family in her absence, I even told her that I’d drive her so that everyone wouldn’t be nosy if an ambulance showed up, but she just said, “no, I just need to be with my family right now”. And just as Susan said, she climbed into her bunk between her daughter and her husband and cried all night. The next morning she told David what happened, we could see it in his face when she told him. He sobbed for 3 days straight
Her pants were ripped pretty badly when she was attacked, so we all chipped in to buy her a new pair of work pants so she could still work. By dinner time the next day, the entire shelter knew what happened. After that, the guards let a couple of the guys out each night so they could walk her home.
Lockdown was at 10, lights out at 10:30. And if you didn’t have a pre-authorized pass signed by your employer, it didn’t matter if you had Jesus himself with you for backup, and you *still* weren’t getting in. The guards couldn’t leave while they were on duty but would let the (rougher) guys go out every night passed lockdown so they could go get her and bring her back. And the guys all took turns, this way if anyone was watching they’d know that there were more than two guys backing her up.
Sunday night was something that well all looked forward to. That’s when we all went to Church in Manitou Springs, where they served dinner… real food, not the crap we were used to. You had to be there on time because they only had so many portions. The soup kitchen in town had those big giant pots, and if they had a significant amount left, it went into tomorrow’s meal, but not at the church in Manitou Springs. It was good food, sometimes it was the only good thing that happened to us for the whole week.
I still had my car, a small Chevette knockoff. I would earn gas money from people to take them places. On Sunday nights it was great because I was always guaranteed to get three guys in the back seat, with me & my boyfriend up front with me. They all gave me $5 each and gas was still 99¢ a gallon back then so it was a great income for someone who couldn’t find a job. I also did it for the ones who went to the plasma center during the week because they were not up to walking back. I lost my job because they found out that I was living in the shelter so this was the only money I was making, by being a taxi to my fellow “shelter rats” (as we were called).
Anyway, we all were sitting down with our plates… it was loud, filled with happy talk because of a real meal and a change of scenery, dishes, silverware, and glasses all clanking and banging. The pastor would have everyone bow their heads and he’d say grace then we could eat. Well he said grace, we dug in and within a few minutes, you could hear a pin drop.
“…and then the angels of justice and mercy came for Susan.”
It was about a month after Susan was attacked and the three guys that raped her made the mistake of coming into the Church basement for dinner. The two guys behind him knew their world was going to change when they turned around to leave and there were two guys barring the door. The leader, I don’t remember his name from 31 years ago, but I do remember his face. He was the blackest person I’d ever seen. Skin the color of espresso, the only thing that gave him away in the dark was his teeth and his eyes. He was wearing a black leather jacket and black pants which gave away how he got around at night (like a ninja) and on his shoulder a heavy chain with a metal padlock on it.
The pastor came out and asked what was going on and one of the guys told him. He looked at those three, grossly outnumbered and said, “I’m sorry we’re full and there’s no more to eat” (which was true) but elicited a very forceful no. The pastor told him “Well then, I’m sure the boys will you help you find the way to your car.” The guy spoke up telling the Pastor that he didn’t have a car. So the pastor glossed over his response and said “God doesn’t care if you have a car or not, he cares about *other* things like how you live, how you treat people, and so on. Boys, If you wouldn’t mind, could you please take these late-comers out to their car, I have to go check on dessert.”
They hadn’t even made it out of the basement when everything jumped off. He rolled his shoulder to drop the chain to put it in his hand but it got snatched away from him while his face stopped someone’s fist from running away. The guy who grabbed the chain from him swung it…
I was “caught staring with the dumb look” (as we used to call it.) I’d never seen a cheekbone before, or any bone for that matter (other than watching Deliverance, but it was not the same.) I was just completely stunned at just how white it was, but that was of course in contrast with the espresso colored skin and the bright red blood that was now going everywhere. The next blast was a right hook that cold-cocked him. It was at that point when he was dragged out into the parking lot and his friends (who were still conscious at least) took off. When thug #1 came to a couple of minutes later, he was freaking out about how he got there and the amount of blood ( a bit dazed don’t you know) and he got his ass kicked. He suddenly came to his senses, stood up and then took off as quickly as he could like his friends did.
Our guys came back in just as the pastor came out, who took one look at them and said “boys, it was very nice of you to help those gentlemen with their car trouble, but you’ve all gotten so dirty, you need to all come in the kitchen and wash up all of you, you need to be presentable for dinner.” (read: Just in case the police showed up.)
I was there for another couple of months but that guy was never seen around town ever again to my brief knowledge.
I really do hope that Susan and David, along with their daughter April were able to move on and move up. I hope they were given access to the services they needed to survive and with any luck, they were able to get help for all that they had endured.
So, why did I tell you this long-winded story you ask?
The reason for this is to use light to see those who are in the shadows, to see those who are normally invisible to the population as a whole. The homeless are a large part of our country’s landscape as well abroad. We see the pictures of the homeless during the Great Depression. People standing in lines a block long. People living in tents We don’t see that, just the occasional person standing at an intersection with a cardboard sign, we don’t see them. So if there is such a homeless problem, where are they? Why don’t they look the same? Easy, back then are programs now like SNAP, Welfare, and WIC that didn’t exist back then. There were no homeless shelters, just people living in Hoovervilles. No food pantries, no soup kitchens per say, there were soup lines (the bonus there was you could fill a soup pot up so that you could feed your children, and bread lines. Can you imagine?
The problem is that these people along with myself at the time and even now as a disabled person, is that we are/were invisible. I swear, I would love 10 acres of land, cover it with tiny houses, solar panels on every roof, mandatory recycling, a place in the middle with a laundry room and hot showers (just in case you’re too tall or just fluffy like me), wifi for the community, since nowadays places will only take applications online. A community center with a couple of computers for kids to do homework, gather up books for a take a book/leave a book library, the same goes for DVD’s and we would have weekend gatherings so you could get to know your neighbors and further know that you’re not alone, you’re not the only person that this has happened to and you just have to get up, dust yourself off. And they’d all have to pitch in taking care of the community…. emptying trash, raking leaves or cutting grass or shoveling snow, helping someone with a handyman project, etc and with the goal that this is temporary, you get your life back together or create a new one and you move up and let that tiny house help out the next person or couple in need.
Well if anyone has an extra $150K lying around and can’t think of what to do with it, give me a call…
In the meantime, thanks for listening and please, don’t have invisible people surround you. Look for them and you’ll see. And once you see, you’ll have them in your heart and want to help
Editor’s note: I received the same message today that I received last year. Oddly enough, today would have been my mother’s 75th birthday. She’s gone now, thanks to metastasized breast cancer. If you do nothing else for yourself, please do the and share it with the people in your life.
It’s that time of year again, and by that I mean it’s the time for slacktivism in the name of breast cancer. While the games haven’t surfaced (yet), There’s a different one currently going on. I woke up to see a notification on messenger from my friend’s daughter that said the following:
As per my usual stance, I had to tell her no because these things make me angry but assured her that I would get a reminder out. If you’re new to following me, I must explain that I get really angry with the slactivism. You see both of my parents died of cancer. My father died of a mesothelioma (the ones that the attorneys advertise) and my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer just 6 months later.
She went through months of medication and radiation, constantly in pain from the literal burns to her skin. 6-1/2 years later, and after yet another clean bill of health from her bi-annual checkups from her breast oncologist, we went on the vacation she’d always dreamed of to Alaska. She had fallen getting in and out the boat she boarded to go salmon fishing. She caught a nice one too, over 2 feet long!
When we got home her shoulder suddenly started getting worse instead of better. That’s when they found a spot on her liver. They did further testing and revealed that a tumor was in her liver and not on it as it appeared initially and was progressing pretty rapidly. With the confirmation, they gave her 4-6 months to live, but she died one month later when the tumor had grown so large that it literally caused her liver to rupture/explode.
Oddly enough her death certificate lists the cause of death, not as liver cancer, but as metastasized breast cancer, meaning that breast cancer returned had spread. We knew that the breast cancer could come back in the breast and we knew that it could spread to other areas of the body, but none of us knew that it could spread to other organs while it wasn’t present in the breast, making it that much more serious and why we should be diligent about keeping ourselves alive and healthy.
Now for those who haven’t been around someone with cancer, there are several forms of treatment; chemo and radiation being to the two biggest. Radiation therapy causes a burn to the skin that’s like the worst sunburn you’ve ever had. It was brutal, and it hurt her so badly, just putting a t-shirt on was painful and putting on a bra and going to work, much less going to work all day. Think about working with the worst sunburn you’ve ever had and then multiply it several times. It can also cause other issues like lumps under the skin (doesn’t that sound like it would be pleasant to add to the already wonderful situation.
Chemotherapy is another type of radiation therapy but instead of being topical (directed to the skin from outside the body) it is invasive, meaning taken internally. And because it’s an invasive therapy, it means that it can have side effects anywhere in the body instead of it remaining in the area targeted like radiation therapy does. There’s too long of a list for me to cover all the side effects of chemotherapy; if you’d like to see them and learn more please visit the National Cancer Institute’s Chemotherapy Side Effects series, there are 18 documents in total.
Educating yourself and others are what needs to be done to finally win this battle. Cancer has claimed *BILLIONS* of lives. There is nothing to whisper about behind the scenes. Preventing cancer is not in poor taste, it’s not obscene. For the record not only do men have wives, mothers, girlfriends, sisters and daughters who have, have had or possibly will have this and they need to know about this too, men can also get breast cancer. Tell me the last time you saw a game of tag about that?
So speak up and speak out. Stop whispering and playing online games, and thinking you’re off the hook because you bought something with a pink ribbon on it in the past 20 years. We need to save the people, not the tatas.
So please, check them before cancer wrecks them. If you’re a woman who is sexually active, consider doing it with your partner since chances are they are more intimate with your boobs than you are (or at least they try to be). The Five Steps of a Breast Cancer Exam
“Art and Giving are Food for the Soul”
P.S. While we’re talking about it, guys need to be reminded too.
Just yesterday I was watching a movie, Boycott. It’s about the Montgomery Bus Boycott and how the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King Jr became the leader of the civil rights movement. It’s storytelling was perfect, and for me very powerful to truly (virtual) meet the men and women who shaped the landscape of this nation as powerful.
Then this morning I learned a new word on the landscape of the internet and its one that’s really hard to object to. The word #RepubliKLANS and it’s being used to refer to those “really fine people”, on one of the two sides, you know, the ones who carried tiki torches and now have shown up armed.
I’m so, just… stunned. What happened to the war on terror? Doesn’t domestic terrorism count? Any guesses what happens to the school bullies when they grow up?
How long before we sink into the cesspool that we’re being led to? All it takes is 45 declaring Marshall law and deputizing those “very fine people” and then start designating groups that are enemies of the state. It leads to a vision of Joseph McCarthy meets Adolf Hitler.
How long before this country is so damaged and dysfunctional that the all the underlying divisions erupt and shatter our country completely? We’ve seen this in history and we know the outcome; it’s time to stand together as one nation and start thinking of country, responsibility, and our direction. Yes, our country’s founding principles were based on Judeo-Christian beliefs, but more importantly, our Constitution is based on the Magna Carta.
I can appreciate an off the wall thought process because I have an odd thought process as well (thank you ADD). But to come off with such a horrific idea and then share it publicly… damn. Usually, when someone is spewing bullsh*t off the top of their head, a.k.a. Freudian slips, it’s a good indicator of their character.
I thought that we Americans learned our lesson about internment camps and concentration camps but apparently, I was wrong unfortunately
This woman needs to be educated, a lot and fast. Representatives as, well as those in governance in this country should have common sense and they should be intelligent enough to A) Think their ideas out before spewing them as soon as it hits their brain and B) Should have enough intelligence and understanding of basic human rights to do the job of representing their constituents and not aspiring to be babysitters or zookeeper.
Afterall that’s why we have elections, debates, etc. to weed out the idiots and the extremists. Then again the last election totally blew that theory out of the water. That’s number 14. Go down the list and see how many you can check off because I got 14/14.
I have been saying for years that our country was leaning more and more towards fascism, and it is more and more visible as time goes on. Just last week there was something that made it seem as though if they get their way, we’ll be wearing rainbow patches instead of yellow six-pointed Stars of David to single us out, and frankly since we already wear them anyway as a a way to show pride and solidarity, so we’re pretty easy to spot.
I pray that there will be a day when our government will stop bullying people
This is a man I respect and admire. He was not my choice for president but that had more to do with his running mate and his oppositions platform, but that had no bearing on my respect for him. To go through the hell he did as a tortured POW for several years, to take all that time healing both physically and as much as he could mentally, only to continue a life of service to this nation and its people…. That is someone to be admired and revered.
Not long ago I, like many of you, were watching the senate hearings and saw Senator McCain acting a bit out of character and became genuinely concerned, commenting to several people that I felt that something was wrong with him, he wasn’t acting right. The man is sharp as a tack and always on his game and he seemed almost sedated.
Then to hear about his health diagnosis just broke my heart. My prayers go to him and his family. His daughter was quoted that while they were all devastated with the news, the one who was calm and consoling everyone else was him. That somehow doesn’t surprise me.
This man has once again been handed the shitty end of the stick in life and instead of immediately turning inward overwhelmed with what this means to him and his family and to spending whatever quality time he has to look forward to with his family, no that’s not his focus, not yet at least. Instead, he’s returning to the floor to fight the good fight for the 23 million good, hard-working people of this nation who will not have the means to pay for treatment for a broken arm, their children’s vaccinations, much less to pay for treatment for a cancer diagnosis like he has been.
Stop here and read that again, let that sink in. Because it truly is mind-blowing to think about this in context.
How many of us would continue our duty and make it a continued priority in his situation? The answer is more than we realize. Maybe not because we want to or because we feel a higher calling or purpose, but because we have to. Yes, we take pride in our jobs and our contribution to our communities, but the fact of the matter is that millions of Americans get up and go to work each day, with pain, with a bleak prognosis, working 2 and 3 jobs, because we have to. Because we have to pay the bills, put food on the table and keep a roof over our family’s heads. And through all that, we hope that we can continue to have the medical care we need to make it through… another year, another month, another week, or just one day at a time because more than that is too much to bear.
I don’t use the word hero very often; as a matter of course, I find the word to be grossly overused. However today I will say it here and mean it with every fiber of my being. Senator John McCain is an American hero, his military service goes without saying, but for his unwavering service and dedication to his constituency, and his commitment to this great nation of ours.
I can only hope that his actions will humble and continue to inspire his co-workers to stand up for the people they have been sent to represent. Senator McCain is the man showing those in power and reminding all of us just how to make America great again. It’s the word we’ve been looking for for a while now but it wasn’t in any of the sound bites.
“Make America great again” shouldn’t be a slogan or a brand, it’s an action and one that many of us have forgotten how to do or neglected to demand from our representatives. It’s done by standing up not just for those who stood in the polling lines for your party, but for all the people who should have representation.
The men and women who have been working to make America great again do so by reminding us of words and phrases describing what made the American people the greatest in the world… words like honor, loyalty, integrity, pride, work ethic, vision, community, melting pot.
It doesn’t have to be done on a battle field on the other side of the world for it to count. It can be done on the other side of the classroom or a coffee counter, by donating or volunteering, by looking out for your neighbors, bartering for services, supporting local businesses, by showing pride in your community and making it a better place to be, and not just in one place where everyone can, but in all areas of our lives, great and small.
This is another blog post that I made about ten years ago that I had tucked away on another server. I thought it was time to dust it off.
I agree there’s a need for low-income housing in this country but I’m not sure that we’re going about it the right way. With the exception of the elderly or the permanently disabled, I’m of the opinion that subsidized housing should be a vehicle to help until you’re ready to move to a better position. Instead it tends to permanent placement.
A recent local television news story highlighted how an upscale apartment complex was about to have a new complex built next to them. The two complexes would be virtually similar but one would be subsidized. The “powers that be” assured folks that it would be nice and modern and not “look like” low-income housing so that no one could complain about depreciating property values. How angry would you be, paying maybe $1000 a month for your apartment knowing that someone now could get virtually the same apartment in the same neighborhood for less than $200? I know I’d be livid!
Also, what’s the motivation for the person in the $200 apartment to work hard, gain job skills and advance their income only to be in the same place at several times their current cost? It’s not fair to either party. It’s also not fair to the taxpayers knowing that the difference in rents is not markup or profit margin for the landlord but rather the bill is being paid by taxpayers in the form of higher taxes. I don’t know about you, but I have a hard enough time paying my own bills without having to pay someone else’s.
I’m of the opinion that percentages are fair. For example, sales taxes are fair, you pay according to what you spend and everyone pays proportionally. Flat taxes are disproportionate. A $500 fee will crush the person making $300 a week but would be only irritating or inconvenient to the person with a 6-figure income.
The housing market in this country is completely based on paying per square foot, in both the commercial and residential markets. So I think that (again with the exception of the elderly and the permanently disabled) we should make an effort to build smaller housing.
If we’re paying by the square foot, then there shouldn’t be the need (or as much of a need) to subsidize to create affordable housing. The smaller the housing, the more efficient you make it… Solar power, smaller, more energy efficient appliances, all keeps utility bills low or nonexistent, so there’s less/no need to subsidize them either. Provide wifi in the cost so that residents still have ample opportunities for schooling, work, etc. especially for folks with children.
Make sure it’s functional and efficient and if you want more room to spread out, then you work harder to make more money so that you can afford a bigger place. No entitlement, you work and you earn, then you get because you deserve. Principals that this country was founded on that we need to get back to.
Unfortunately (and I was guilty of this too) a young person often feels that they should continue to live in the lifestyle they’ve been accustomed to while living with their parents, not realizing that this should be their goal, but it’s not owed to them. Their parents live that way because they’ve worked hard to achieve it. Sadly, this sense of entitlement causes a lot of heartaches because it’s not readily achievable. It sets people up for failure. We need to teach people that you start small and get as big as you’re willing to work and save.
Many people look at Tiny Houses and shake their head, but I know when I lived in a homeless shelter I would have LOVED to have one of these to live in, and I know that many others I was with would have as well.
Imagine a homeless shelter being replaced with a “subdivision” of Tiny houses. You could easily put 100 of them in just a couple of acres. And in the process help people get re-established so they can work their way back up instead of dealing in depression and anxiety at the overwhelming situation they’re in. The ability to have a place your own, to keep what few treasured possessions you have, privacy, dignity. That people can make or break someone.
Places like Hong Kong and Japan have limited space with large populations. It’s not uncommon for people to live in 300 sq. ft. apartments with all their necessities. Utilizing their models, not only could we offer affordable housing to more of our citizens but we’d also be able to house more people in less space. Imagine being able to take a current apartment complex and tripling or quadrupling the number of people that can live there. You now have the potential to reduce waiting lists, people living in cars and living on the streets because they have nowhere to turn without warehousing or supporting them in the process.